


Cherish

by amoama



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoama/pseuds/amoama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucretia hates to bathe alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherish

**Author's Note:**

> For Bring Back the Porn 2015 on IJ. :D
> 
> This is pretty heavy on the belly-worship because I think that is just where Lucretia's head is at tbh!
> 
> Also to warn you I went with pudenda! It's a latin word after all.

Lucretia hates to bathe alone. The water doesn’t soothe her, she needs the slow slide of hands smoothing over her skin to help her settle. 

 

She remembers, suddenly, the hushed breaths that accompanied Naevia’s ministrations, tickling her neck with a cautious inflection, as she tried desperately to be unobtrusive. Lucretia would reward careless movements with a harsh slap to ensure the diligence she craved. 

 

But she is no longer Domina of this house. There is no one she can order to attend her and no one has thought to come. Instead of luxuriating in the scented water she feels scorched and raw in its heat. She is far too aware of her vulnerability, her body too easily plundered, her mind wandering unmercifully far. 

 

She must stay, though, until she is clean; and she is never clean. 

 

At last she hears footsteps and feels both relief and terror. She cannot bear to be alone, she fears all company. But it’s Ilithyia, of all her enemies, the most known. Such that she counts more as friend then foe. 

 

She comes fully into view, dazzlingly naked, led by her belly. She steps carefully over the wet stone. She moves gingerly, accommodating the new weight. But the early discomfort of her pregnancy has given way to a heavy sensuality brought on by an increased awareness of her body. She is as graceful as ever as she lowers herself into the water and she shivers, briefly, in serene gratification, her enjoyment sparking Lucretia’s, at last. 

 

Ilithyia moves through the water towards Lucretia, her swollen breasts buoyant on the surface. Want surges, fierce, through Lucretia. It has envy at it’s core. 

 

“You remember, now, don’t you? You remember how we were friends?” Ilithyia asks, angling her broadening shape in close, trailing her fingers through Lucretia’s hair. Lucretia doesn’t know what she remembers but here is Ilithyia resting her cheek against Lucretia’s shoulder, displaying her pregnant body as an offering for Lucretia to share in. 

 

Lucretia can touch it now. Knows she is being allowed; and permission has become vital. 

 

Tentative, watching Ilithyia’s face carefully, she reaches out below the water and puts her hand to Ilithyia’s belly, where the babe grows. She pauses to check for any sign of Ilithyia’s displeasure but there is none. 

 

“Yes, go on, friend,” Ilithyia encourages. Lucretia’s fingers softly trace the outline of that happy womb. 

 

It’s true, she remembers everything; at times. But her mind is an unknown place to her now. Distanced from her body, it comes and goes, circling around and about, past and present, shadow and salvation. 

 

She hates Ilithyia, she loves Ilithyia, both are true, neither are the most power of her feelings. 

 

Ilithyia has something she needs; perhaps everything Lucretia longs for. That knowledge abides.

 

Lucretia’s hands pause together, fingers stretched wide, concentrating on feeling the life beneath, letting the strength of that feeling guide her back to the reality of Ilithyia before her. She forces her hands to move on. Her left grasps higher, gloves a milk-weighted breast, palm massaging the underside while she rubs her fingers over the nipple. Her right hand dips down further to the soft lips below. Ilithyia lets out a small sigh as Lucretia begins to rub lightly. 

 

Lucretia caresses Ilithyia’s body as reverently as she is able. Ilithyia must be protected. Above all things, at all costs, this is what Lucretia knows. 

 

Her memories of Ilithyia often surprise her into fear and anger, at other times they overwhelm her with the passion they elicit. Love or hate, she barely knows. For now, Lucretia nurses this body ardently, amazed that such a brittle, brazen thing should be her salvation. Lucretia cannot now remember why, but her whole being thrums with how important it is to please her. 

 

Ilithyia stretches out, luxuriating in the sensations Lucretia’s hands arouse. She calls out her release with a fervency that startles them both. Lucretia flushes with the satisfaction of it. Allows herself to stretch out along the back of the bath as Ilithyia moves over her, eyes aglow with her need to return favour. 

 

Lucretia’s own eyes flick right, compulsively searching for the one who will share in her success. She cannot find his eyes but she feels his approbation nonetheless. Yes, this is right. This will keep them safe. Keep them close. 

 

How many times has a warm, soft body brought her to pleasure while she gazes into the eyes of her husband? This time however there is the sting of teeth at her ear, something a slave would never initiate. She wakes up in her body once more, alive to the vibrancy of Ilithyia’s loving. Ilithyia’s accompanying smile is coquettish. She wants to play, to tease and be teased, to be set on fire again and again. It is always a game because there must always be a winner. 

 

Lucretia slides herself lower into the water, acting the submissive as Ilithyia straddles her body. Their bellies rub together, Ilithyia’s healthy roundedness hiding the scars of Lucretia’s damaged flesh. The baby sits between them as their pudenda meet, pressed together as Ilithyia rocks herself down, bringing them closer. Lucretia cannot prevent her hands from finding their place on Ilithyia’s belly, her mouth between her breasts. This is her happiness, her hope. Once again, she remembers. This is her friend who will give her all she has wanted. It is Ilithyia who will return her to her former position, her husband, her child, her household. Lucretia is suffused with gratitude for this benefactor who will sacrifice all for her. 

 

Together, at each other’s hands, in each other’s arms, they have suffered much. Now it is the time for restoration. For them to share in each other’s resources for recovery. Lucretia takes of Ilithyia’s body, her mind soaring through the clinging press of their bodies and the steaming water. She comes, gasping out, earnestly grateful, and Ilithyia joins her, laughing her high, jubilant laugh, enjoying the simple elation of the moment. She does not know, yet, what Lucretia is grateful for, but she takes it as her due without a qualm. 

 

Lucretia sets her aside gently, soothes her hands over Ilithyia’s scattered locks and kisses her firmly, full of the quaint, fast affection that Ilithyia herself is so used to delivering. Carefully she places them back on well-trodden ground, her body remembering before her mind.

 

“Just what was needed,” Ilithyia says. Her meaning, in this moment, is so innocent compared to Lucretia’s own, dark, intentions. 

 

“Not too much?” Lucretia asks, deflecting with a taunt.

 

“Never.” Ilithyia smiles that sly, victory smile that always makes Lucretia shiver. 

Lucretia kisses her one more time, “Indeed.”


End file.
